The Master Swordswoman
by Morpheus Dream Maker
Summary: When a Señora Valentina Espina visits the El Pueblo de Los Angeles, she comes bearing the intend to hunt and kill Zorro. In order to prove that she is the greatest hunter of men alive. Will Diego De la Vega's alter-ego Zorro be able to match wits and blades with this Noble Spanish huntress, or will he truly be just another trophy and be her next prey to die?


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything about the New World Zorro or any other Zorro in fan-fiction or fiction in general and I am certainly not getting paid to write and publish my story on this or any other site.

**The Master Swordswoman by Morpheus_Dream_Maker**

**Chapter One:**

**Señora Espina's Arrival**

* * *

The wheels of the stagecoach creaked as it hurried along the Californian plains on its journey to El Pueblo de Los Angeles with only two passengers, who were so very different as could be seated within the stagecoach.

The first passenger was a young woman in a finely elegant gown or dark red with black lace on the skirt and about the high raised collar about her neck. She had a pretty, young and slender face with high cheekbones and a sun kissed olive golden complexion. Her glossy black hair that securely was up in a bun at the nape of her neck with the aid of a gem encrusted yellow gold long hairpin. While she wore a red and black laced bonnet high up on the top of her head, as she sat back against the back of the seat beneath the couch driver's seat with her eyes closed and both her ankles beneath the hem of the skirt of her gown, while her red-gloved hands and forearms folded primly in her lap.

Seated across from the young woman in the fine gown was an old man in what had been once fine clothes but now were slightly well wore and old just like the man, who was in his late forties. "Señora Espina, are you certain it is wise to be traveling to such a place like this in order to seek out your adventure?" The man asked in a very croaky and dusty clogged voice as he eyed his mistress warily.

'Oh, but my dear Benito this places is pretty especially since it is the home of the bandit Zorro," Señora Espina answers back in a silky smooth voice as she moves to tug a roll of fabric from the couch seat behind her. She reached her right gloved hand into the fabric cycler to withdraw the handle, guard and an inch of a rapiers shinny and sharp blade concealed within before quickly returning it to its hiding spot. "For where can a woman with a sword truly be happy but when hunting those men who believe themselves to the greatest of hunters. I have made every man my prey and feasted upon their demise as I will this fox of Los Angeles."

"Of course Señora though we will need to be less open about that if we are to avoid your father learning of your actions," Benito cautioned before he coughed twice as the couch picked up speed on the open dusty plains of California.

"Oh, worry not Benito for the only way my father should know of what we shall do is if you become my unfaithful servant and tell him." The Señora's voice remained silky smooth but was spiced with venomous intent as she flashed a gleam of hungry and of wicked delight as her servant seated across from her in the couch slightly cringed and shrink down within the seat. He looked away from her with fear causing his body to shiver and shake upon the bumpy ride of the couch as his mistress excused her domination against the weak and cowardly old servant. "When we leave Los Angeles the male fox Zorro will have been killed by the female coyote Señora Valentina Espina. Just as I have killed other swordsmen, and bandits alike these last four years, my dear old Benito."

This pronouncement then met with only silence within the couch as it continued to on its final destination of the El Pueblo de Los Angeles; which had just come into view of the couch man who announced that they would arrive in the fifteen minutes. Señora Valentina grinned widely as she sat back and licked her lips with anticipation that soon she would be crossing swords with the bandit Zorro and that her pray would fall bloody and forgotten at her feet. While she continued on to her next prey as the grand hunter that she was and always would be.


End file.
